


Stack of Euphemism Pancakes

by Wearysea



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Asexual Character, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Canon Asexual Character, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Demiromantic Character, Demiromantic Husk (Hazbin Hotel), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-01-23 22:14:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21327523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wearysea/pseuds/Wearysea
Summary: Alternatively, ‘how many old time-y euphemisms for sex, drugs and murder can I fit into one fic.’
Relationships: Alastor/Husk (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 53
Kudos: 385





	1. Romantic Codswallop

Happy Hotel was a terrible name, it was cheesy and out of place, yes, his choice of Hazbin Hotel was clearly superior. The building itself needed some adjustments, but it was nothing that Niffty and a little conjuring couldn’t sort out. The hotel was coming along quite nicely, if he said so himself, and inevitable shit-show or not, he was going to enjoy how his latest charity case turns out. In the meantime, Alastor was enjoying a nice glass of giggle juice by a high floor window. The one consumable hell got right was the liquor, he really couldn’t blame the alcoholics for getting hooked on the tiger milk.

Never Alastor though, he had his vices, sure, but they were far more in the realm of things he could do to people, than things he could take or drink, not that he didn’t drink, he just didn’t do it very often. You don’t spend any amount of time in hell without doing something of that nature every now and again. It was just too much of a pain in the ass to abstain from one of the largest reasons souls go to hell in the first place, demons treated you like shit if they thought you were trying to act better than them. 

Being asexual in hell wasn’t exactly easy either. That is to say, it was difficult as all hell. Lust being a major sin, getting frisky tended to be pretty popular, as in, hard to avoid. Pornography was the biggest film franchise there was down there and pretty much every other business used the service of Venus to barter for goods. Even if it wasn’t for business, it tended to be the most common hobby for anyone who wanted to have a good time, which was almost everybody.

Alastor didn’t engage in such encounters in life or in death, this made navigating hell… difficult for him. Particularly within the first two weeks while he was still getting his bearings and coping with the whole being dead thing.

Now, Alastor was much more of a wrath kind of guy, so when he was propositioned, and EVERYONE got propositioned in hell on a regular basis, he tended to lose his temper… in the early days, anyway. he’d gotten used to the sexual overtones a decent chunk the other residents spoke in, he had to, if he destroyed everyone who even hinted at getting him into bed, or a back seat, or a dark alley, he wouldn’t have any time to do anything else. He also wanted to be taken seriously, and he very quickly realised that demons who popped their lid at every little thing simply weren’t, regardless of how physically powerful they were.

He still missed being alive though, at least he didn’t have to deal with anyone trying to get a horizontal refreshment from him. People were content to leave him alone up there. Down here… well, he’d just have to put demons off before they got the thoughts into their heads. Some high-profile obliterations, both physical and mental – but leaning heavily towards physical – did that just nicely, some still tried to join giblets to get closer to his status but the ones with common sense stayed well away. Those that didn’t were treated to a 50-calibre restraining order.

Especially after he’d made some of the scraps he’d been in public. Ha, he’d gotten very good at sweet-talking in life, and in death it made him very good at making deals. Let’s say he climbed the social ladder very quickly down here. Getting to continue his life’s passion not only into the afterlife, but full time was fantastic. He gets to entertain and be entertained in a way he could only dream of as a mortal, engaging in any violent thought that went through his head with wild abandon. He didn’t even need to be covert about it, the freedom he had gained in this next chapter of ‘life’ was utterly unparalleled by anything else he’d experienced, and he was quite the homicidal aficionado in life.

But back to the point. Alastor was never going to truly be free of people who wanted to dance the paphian jig, grope for a trout in a peculiar river, take a turn at bushy park. You get the gist.

That made things rather… lonely. It had taken no time at all to seize power, but it had taken a very long time to find other demons that weren’t a complete pain in the ass to be around. Truth be told he was a little lonely, he didn’t really do relationships outside of family in life, but at least he’d had family up there from the start.

Good old Husker was fun enough, he was a beast at poker, and he enjoyed being on his team when they played, he liked seeing Husker get genuinely happy, his gloomy demeaner lifting for just a little while. It was nice to have somewhat of a friend. It helped that Husker’s vices were exclusively alcohol and gambling based. Not a single attempt to haul Alastor’s ashes, so he could overlook how little he smiled, Alastor couldn’t really blame Husker for that anyway.

Alastor liked Niffty too, she talked fast, and she always had a grin and was very easy to entertain. He liked that she and Husker got along well. Mimzy and Rosie were much the same, all such charming and funny demons, he wished he’d met them all much sooner than he did, but oh well, no use dwelling on it.

Now, Charlie was a little different, she was no pushover, her cat fight with the newshawk really got his attention but she was a little more prey than she wanted to be. Did he enjoy her very similar to his sense of humour? Yes. Did he also enjoy watching and laughing at her inevitably fuck stuff up? Also yes. Although, he did truthfully love her positive attitude, it was somewhat of a rarity in hell, it being literally hell.

He really enjoyed biffing with Vaggie, though, his interactions with her were much like a more antagonistic version of his and Husker’s early days. He couldn’t help it, she was just so grumpy, it made nipping her around so much fun.

The only one of the demons involved in his latest endeavour he… had issues with, was Angel Dust. As amusing as this whole situation is, it’s a bit difficult to get along with a daisy of a pornstar who made constant jokes about it when you’re sex repulsed. He’s far passed going bath salt crazy at an innuendo, but he was still uncomfortable with their interactions. As much as Alastor hated to admit it, Angel got under his skin in the worst way possible. At least Husker agreed, he didn’t like getting hit on either, especially not by that guy.

Surprisingly, he enjoyed talking to Angel otherwise, and generally found him interesting, when he wasn’t being a pervy menace. Which was most of the time. Alastor wasn’t even sure that Angel was being sincere or just acting depraved in unnecessary situations as a way to play up his persona. Husker thinks it’s a mix a’ the first one and a love of ‘sperm of the moment’ interactions. Alastor thinks Husker is negative, but probably not wrong.

He also thinks Husker’s use of the phrase ‘sperm of the moment’ was hilarious, he could get behind a good pun, even more so when they’re used to make fun of allosexuals, ha-ha.

Maybe it had something to do with the demon who made it. Alastor increasingly finds everything Husker says funnier and funnier. Now, don’t get him wrong, he has no intention of playing peaches, but he might… possibly… be experiencing romantic attraction… in Husk’s general vicinity. Shit. He stayed well away from all of that when he was alive, relationships meant having sex back then, something he’d never want to do, and even if it didn’t, if word got out that he was in a relationship with a man… Alastor shuddered thinking about it. People were not kind to people like him.

Alastor really did think Husker was the bee’s knees, though. Therein lied his problem. A problem he wanted to solve with a bean-shooter. He wasn’t particularly sure whether he wanted to use one on himself or Husk, but you can’t go wrong with good murder-suicide, can you? But angelic weapons were a pain to get a hold of, and he’d still be stuck be behind the eight ball without one.

By Husker’s own words, he “lost the ability to love” years ago, and it was impossible to tell if he was just being snarky or if he was serious about it. He’d never engaged in romantic relationships in hell to his knowledge, and he knew next to nothing about the same subject in life. Thinking about the scenarios that would occur if he asked him about it made Alastor want to give himself or preferably someone else a Harlem Sunset.

Or maybe a trip to a hash house, he could go for some deviled eggs right about now. He usually got hungry whenever he went off the track, he typically thought of other demons as meals out of habit, and not one he picked up in hell. What? Alastor didn’t get into hell by not being a cannibal, after all.

He was never caught for it either, no siree, no time spent under glass for him, and there are no send overs in hell, no place for them to be sent to. The only real “punishment” is the exterminations, the cease-to-exist death that the atheists liked to believe, and there was no other way to really bump someone – other than black market angel weapons. That’s right folks, the place that sells drugs from vending machines has a black market. Not just a metaphorical one either, it was a fully fleshed out market with black stalls, it was out of the way though, banned goods were banned goods no matter what plane of existence you lived in.

… Distracting himself wasn’t working. He was still stuck on Husker. He could berate himself for eternity, but it wouldn’t change being sweet on the bastard. He enjoyed the snappy banter they had going between them, he rarely genuinely meant a barb when it was aimed at Husk, insulting the unwitting object of his affections just didn’t give him the warm fuzzies insulting anyone and everyone else did.

Alastor thought he’d been thinking on his own for too long, maybe a good chat is exactly what he needs right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just couldn't resist writing a fic (while in the middle of writing three others, AHHHH) about my favourite Hazbin characters when I found out there was CANONICAL ACE REPRESENTATION. You don't get that often, folks.  
Demiromantic Husk is just my headcanon, to be clear, but Alastor has been confirmed ace and it makes me so happy.


	2. Romantic Bullshit

It was too late for the other staff to be down here in the foyer, it was too early for Angel to be partying, and who fucking knew what Alastor did at any time of day. So, Husk was down here alone with his cheap bottle of booze, what a good time. Fuck, he hated alcohol. Well, more like he hated that he needed it, and he needed it constantly, he loved the stuff itself. 

Heh, love, it’s the only thing he’ll ever love… from death onwards anyway. Husk didn’t really know why his emotions worked the way they did, it was just how he was, and how he was is very confusing. Husk slouched even further onto the bar, his face now hitting the table with a thump. It wasn’t certain whether it was the booze or the apathy, but he didn’t feel the pain, barely even acknowledged his throbbing nose. Why’d his thoughts have to go there? The topic showed up like a minefield whenever he least expected it and it fucked his head up each and every time in a fresh new way. Ain’t that a bite? 

Husk had too many questions and not enough answers. Why? Was he writing a book? Nah, too much effort, he was more of a sloth kinda guy, and it’d get laughed at anyway. All reviews were bad reviews in hell. 

… Hey, that gives Husk an idea. He takes out his cell-phone, an odd little thing gifted to him by Charlie, “modern” Vaggie calls it, and he opens up one of the… epps? Eh, whatever. He looks up a website dedicated to reviews and finds one about movies, he gets forced into watching some every now and again due to his new “volunteering” gig. Fuck charity. He kills a decent amount of time just ripping into the latest steaming pile of garbage his associates were obsessed with. Who even was Itches Elma anyway? 

The replies to the review are what really makes his night, it’s like watching fireworks. That have been shot up someone’s ass. Husk loved making people angry. Hey, that was another thing he loves! Don’t stop him now, he’s on a roll. Shit. Right back there, huh? … God, he misses… Husk needs another drink. 

Husk needs all the drinks, this is the shitty fuckin’ afterlife, you can’t die of alcohol poisoning if you’re already dead and he IS manning the bar. Who cares if it’s also the front desk, they didn’t have any guests other than the “adult film star” and Husk doubted that they’d get any more any time soon, if at all. Sure, Alastor was a charming guy, but Husk wasn’t sure that his patronage was enough to bring in other sinners. Then again, he’d seen Alastor turn seemingly impossible situations in his favour before. Mostly in poker. Don’t tell him, but Husk would only play poker with a partner if it was Alastor he was playing with, he couldn’t really stand anyone else. 

He liked poker well enough in general, but Alastor made it… fun. Any wins with him were bound to be bigger, better, more challenging. With him or against him, it made him… the closest thing to happy in a very long time, he just deadass enjoyed the game more with him around.

The other players were usually bricking their pants, unknowingly confident or knowingly confident. All were hilarious when they inevitably lost the game. What was even more hilarious was when some of ‘em tried to fight. He once witnessed Alastor eat an elephant whole. He wasn’t the only one, that’d been one of the broadcasted murders, an example. Hey, he was just happy Alastor had been on his side. To be honest, Husk was pretty sure the elephant would have lived if he hadn’t insulted him. He’d never really asked Alastor why, Husk had been called worse, much worse, than a “cumberworld”. Whatever that meant. Alastor sure seemed to, and it really got him steamed. 

No one had ever really defended him before, and even though it left him grumbling about not needing anyone fighting his fights for him, it had made him smile too. 

If this was going to be honesty hour, Alastor was the only demon he could stand in general. Other demons had their less-annoying-moments, Husk supposed, and Alastor certainly bugged him from time to time, but he liked him more often than not. That was saying something, considering he didn’t really ‘like’ anyone… and no one really ‘liked’ him, either, he could count the ones that did on one hand. Two of which, Charlie and Niffty, liked damn near everyone so they didn’t really count. Only one that actually mattered was Alastor. 

Husk suddenly sat bolt straight in his seat. Eyes wide and mouth set firmly in a straight line. What the fuck? WHAT THE FUCK, ALASTOR’S OPINION IS THE ONLY ONE THAT MATTERS TO HIM?

Well, fuck, where did that come from? Maybe he needed less drinks. Maybe he needed no drinks. Maybe he needed to go to bed? … Maybe he needed to go talk to Alastor. Shit. Because that was not a thought you have about a friend, too intense, and he has not done that shit in a very long time, never felt any reason to. 

How does one even go about flirting anyway? He’d never done it when he was alive, and definitely not when he was dead either. Why the hell would he? He didn’t feel that shit anymore. Had only felt that romantic bullshit for one person when he was alive, he definitely wasn’t down here. Believe him, he’d looked for… couldn’t even think his name without feeling sick. They’d known each other since they were young, fallen in love, and he’d died long before Husk had. Decades before. He’d distanced himself from pretty much everybody else after that. He wouldn’t do any type of relationship, platonic or otherwise. Everyone was either an associate or an acquaintance. Then he’d joined the army. What a bad time that was. But that’s a trauma for another day, right now he needed to think through his relationship troubles. 

Wait again, when did he stop trying to avoid it? Huh, he guessed that since he… possibly had a thing for a smiley-scary radio host, the subject was a little less daunting. He hadn’t meant to get close to Alastor, but he had, accidently, and he couldn’t control that. However, he could control his actions, and he was not going to fool himself; Alastor wouldn’t go for him, Alastor wouldn’t go for anyone, and Husk had seen first-hand how horrendous the consequences for anybody who tried to hit on him were. 

Husk wasn’t a fool, a lazy, drunken idiot? Maybe. But not a fool. He wasn’t going to kid himself into thinking he had a chance. He wasn’t going to do anything but continue to mope into his booze as he always did. Just because Alastor razzed his berries doesn’t mean he’s gonna bother his only proper friend with his emotional issues… more than he already did. 

He desperately needed to stop blurting out why he felt like shit when he was drunk… or sober… he was just kind of a mess, wasn’t he? An ugly fuckin’ mess that needed to be mopped up… by a crazy ass angel with a gun. Why’d he have to go survive the last extermination? This being conscious thing sucked.

Maybe he really did need to talk to Alastor about this, but first, he needed sleep. Hopefully he’d feel better in the morning… 

Haha, he actually felt motivated to do something for once, and it was going to bed, ain’t that a laugh? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, we have the set up, the thoughts and history's of both sides, next we'll have some actual dialogue. Chapter 3 will be much longer than the others, so it'll be longer for it to come out than the others, but oh well.


	3. Romantic Ineptitude

Y’know what Husk could really go for right now? Pancakes. He fuckin’ loves the syrup you put on ‘em, could eat that stuff out of a jar with a spoon, but it’s a lot nicer with the pancakes. 

It takes him a minute, in the midst of his killer of a hangover, to realise that the reason he’s thinking about pancakes and syrup is because he can smell pancakes and syrup. Maybe even strawberries. It’s enough to get him out of bed in the morning, and next to nothing is enough to get him out of bed in the morning! Or any time of day, really. 

Husk has no clue what time it is as he stumbles down the stairs towards the kitchen. He doesn’t give a fuck whose cooking, he’s getting some of their food. He’s glad to realise it’s Alastor standing there in that dumbass apron, he’s likely to offer without Husk even having to ask him, usually makes too much for himself to eat anyway. 

“Husker! It’s unusual to see you up and about this early! I didn’t wake you up, did I?” Husk didn’t know why Alastor cared, or why Alastor had started calling him Husker, but he found that he didn’t really mind. He actually kind of liked it. 

“No.” He was too sober to talk any more than that and thankfully Alastor realised this. Husker could get pretty creative with those talons when he didn’t have booze clouding his better judgement, a pretty nasty scar on Alastor’s left side could attest to that. Funnily enough they were both laughing about it by the afternoon, Husk thinks he’s the only one to leave a mark and not get cannibalised. Husk is probably right. 

He sits himself down on the countertop, right onto some stale flour he’s too lazy to wipe away, and watches Alastor continue to cook way too much food for himself. Something booze also does is prevents him from being curious about stuff: Curiosity killed the cat, after all… but the ending of that phrase it ‘but satisfaction brought it back.’ 

“Why do you always make so much food? I know you never plan on giving it to anybody else.” They still had left over jambalaya, a lot of it, stuffed in the fridge from his last food fad. 

Husk almost thinks Alastor is gonna ignore him. Almost. He’s spent enough time around Alastor by now that Husk knows when somethings a little personal, he tends to think about what he wants to say more, if he wants to say anything at all. 

Angel Dust isn’t the only demon in hell with a persona. 

“Charlie calls it stress-baking.” 

He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t that. Alastor was really at a loss here, huh? Normally, Husk wouldn’t give a shit, he’d go straight to making a cannibal themed binge-eating joke, but he had a weird night, and it’s Alastor so: “What are you stressed about?” 

… 

“Come on, give me a hint.”

“… Have you ever been in love, Husker?” 

Well, now he’d gone and done it. The question just had to be asked though, Alastor had been struggling with the notion long enough. This was just a case of biting the bullet and readying himself for the answer he needed to hear before he went utterly insane.

“Yeah, once.” 

“What happened?” 

“Death. Different afterlife.” 

“Ah, that’s a shame, I’m sorry to hear it.” 

Husk had no idea what Alastor was asking this for, but he knew his friend didn’t go around asking unnecessary questions and it was likely about whatever was bothering him. 

“So, your having an issue with your love life? I’m not going to lie, I thought you didn’t do that stuff.” 

“I don’t, that’s the issue I suppose. I don’t engage in barneymugging and on the very rare occasion that I… catch feelings for someone it guarantees that they won’t be interested in me in a way I want them to be.” 

Dorky euphemisms aside, Husk truly did get what Alastor was putting down; sex and feelings had never really been connected for him. They we two separate beasts and he didn’t understand why everyone he’d known had thought of them as going hand in hand. Actually, he should probably say that to Alastor, so he does. He seems to brighten up a bit, Husk continues to explain that he didn’t really feel any desire for romantic relationships himself until he’d properly gotten to know someone, and that he’d been purposefully abstaining from doing that for the majority of his living adulthood and the entirety of his time being undead, until very recently that is. 

Turns out Alastor had even less experience with romance than Husk did. 

He genuinely didn’t think that was possible. 

Husk hadn’t known Alastor was asexual, or what it was before he’d explained, and neither had Alastor himself until long after he’d died, there simply hadn’t been any widely known words for what he was until fairly recently. However, Alastor had known since he was young that he had no interest in having sex, the mere thought of which actually disgusted him. He’d avoided any amorous intentions out of pure instinct, which left him with a problem. Alastor liked someone. Alastor wanted to date someone, for the first time, and he was freaking out about it. 

Husk wished he could help him with that, he really would if he had any advice to give, even if he was incredibly jealous, but turns out Alastor didn’t even want any, he had no intention of pursuing it, he just wanted a method of coping with his feelings

“You’re really not going to go for it?” 

“I might have developed feelings for another person, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to humiliate myself by making them known to someone I’m certain won’t reciprocate!” Alastor doesn’t really snap at Husk often, so if Husk flinches when Alastor raises his voice then who could really blame him “What about you? You said your feelings have changed recently, why haven’t you talked to them!” knowing damn well it was the exact same reason. 

Fuck it, Husk was a demon! He didn’t get into hell by being too anxious to play with fire, or scary ass dear demons. Looking absolutely nowhere near Alastor, “I might’ve… developed feelings. For you.”

Alastor was completely blindsided and if Husk turned out to be messing with him, he wouldn’t even wait until the catbird was dead before he ate him. “I believe I return those feelings.” Alastor answers a little too fast for Husk to think he was calm, his eternal grin never faltering, but Husk can read him very clearly and what he sees is nerves that mirror his own. 

“… What the fuck do we do now?” 

“No idea.” 

The relief of each other’s returning of affections doesn’t survive the crushing uncertainty they both faced. They end up eating as many pancakes as they could muster, then decide to have a food fight, nay, a food war, with the rest. They spent a long while just lying patiently in wait for a poor unfortunate soul to wander into their midst, no conversation was needed. The silence was comfortable, even if there was a budding sense of anticipation in the air. 

A spider’s humming was music to their ears, though not because they particularly enjoyed his voice, but because he was oh, so close to the trap they’d set. You could say the spider was going to get caught in a web. 

There truly was nothing funnier than seeing Angel Dust get hit in the balls with fried batter, and with a wheezy “It’s on!” he gives the dynamic duo exactly what they want. 

Vaggie was not pleased, Charlie thought it was kind of funny, Niffty loved cleaning anyway, so they were basically doing her a favour. 

Although, Angel did make a load of cum-themed jokes when he saw some leftover batter, and inevitably flung that into the mix as well, so was this really worth it? Husk realises it’s very worth it right around the third time Angel got hit where the sun doesn’t shine.

That was also around the time that Vaggie got Charlie to agree to putting her foot down, and well, Alastor didn’t really want to push them too far, so he was obliged to stop when they started getting serious. By his own choice, of course, but that didn’t stop Husk from grumbling as they got out of Niffty’s way. 

They decided to leave the hotel all together for the day, and for once Husk didn’t want to go gambling! Shock horror! Call the presses! … Then again, Alastor is all the press Husk would ever want, and hell forbid someone try to muscle in on Alastor’s turf. 

Perhaps they could go out for something to eat? 

Alastor was always in the mood for food, you see, so it was a pretty safe offer. Husk knew Alastor would deny it to the end of the afterlife, but he had a decent stake in the glutton department too. 

Alastor had his own favourite diner down in hell, and he’d decided to treat Husker for a bit of lunch, it was bordering on midday now, after all. 

Husk and Alastor may not be sure where to go from here, relationship wise, but at least they’re both happy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing this fic so much, yay for more RadioHusk content :)


End file.
